The Paths We Take
by Leonora Chris
Summary: Gibbs never killed Hernandez and he never joined NIS/NCIS. But Tony did.


**_(I don't own NCIS or the characters etc from it, only the story is mine.)_**

**Just one of those small things in my head, which I decided to write and then share...  
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_**Leo**_

* * *

><p>"Give up Hernandez! It's over!"<p>

The man only showed his teeth in response and raised his head in a proud manner. Either it was the ugliest smirk he had ever seen or then it was a sneer. It was becoming clear how this was going to end. Hernandez proved it true by pulling out his second weapon. That was all the answer the Agents surrounding him needed and they opened the fire. Some may call it overkill, but this man had been running from the law and justice for years. And the longer he'd been out there, the more people lost their lives or their lives were destroyed.

"Boss." One of the younger Agents spoke to his boss, after they had made sure the man was dead for sure.

"You think we're ever going to find out the full body count he left behind?"

"Doubtful. Let's give Ducky room to work."

They watched as another car stopped at the scene soon after, having been waiting in a safe distance for this very moment. Doctor Mallard, their Medical Examiner, stepped out. He had a grim look on his face, which you didn't see him wear that often. He walked to the boss and his Agents, looking hopeful. "Anthony... Did you get him?"

"We got him, Ducky. It's finally over." Tony nodded and the old man sighed, looking like the world had been lifted from his shoulders. All those bodies left behind by that man and too many which had come through his morgue... They could finally close this chapter in their lives...

"Thank Heavens... Well done, my boy... Well done..." Ducky pats Tony's arm and then he walked towards the bloody scene waiting for him. Not looking one bit unnerved by it.

"Come along, Gerald! We have work to do." He called after the man who came there with him.

"Good luck." Tony smirked.

Gerald Jackson rolled his eyes and ran after Ducky. Since there were also other dead besides Pedro Hernandez, both his and their men, they had their hands full of work for the rest of the week. In that moment Gerald was grateful that by now he was so used to the gruesome crime scenes. Although maybe this one was more like a battle scene?

Tony clapped his hands together to get his Agents attention. "Okay everyone! Good work! Let's finish things up here so we might still get some sleep for a couple of hours! Tomorrow is another long day for us!"

"On it boss!" His SFA answered with a tired, but wide smile. They'd been working almost nonstop for a couple of weeks on this war against the Mexican drug dealers, namely Hernandez, but it was all worth it now that they had one big scumbag off the streets.

"Yes boss." His Junior Agent answered calmly. Too tired to look cheerful, but even he had a small smile on his face.

"Right away, Agent DiNozzo..!" Their probie was the most eager of them all. This being her first and possibly biggest case for some time.

With a soft laughter, Tony saw the way his Junior Agent was about to fall asleep on his feet. Deciding that it would be the best for them all, he sent him to get them some coffee. "Watch your six!"

"I'm only going to buy coffee, boss..."

"I know. Watch your six."

He wanted to just go to sleep, but he knew that his Agents would be looking at him as their example, so Tony willed the sleepiness away and went back to work. Sleep could wait, the crime scene wouldn't.

* * *

><p>"Good work, Agent DiNozzo."<p>

Tony stood in the Director's office and hid his smile at the compliment. "Not going to tell me anything about how we could have tried to bring him in alive?"

The Director looked up from the report. "I said good work, Agent."

"Thank you, sir."

Leon Vance grunted his reply. It was true. Normally they would've had a long talk about how he should have brought the man in, alive and not in a body bag. But truthfully this was easier for them all. People like Hernandez usually found a way out or then they somehow found a way to lead their crime circles from the prison. However impossible, they always seemed to find a way. Well, the worst ones did...

Looking up, he saw that his Agent was still standing there. Something like amusement glimmering in the man's eyes. "Go home. You and your Agents. Take rest of the week off, unless something just as urgent comes up."

"There are still some reports that-"

"Tell your Agents that those can wait. Not everyone can '_work smarter and not harder_', Agent."

"Aye aye, sir..." Tony smirked and left the office.

Leon shook his head. Sometimes it was such a shame that the man was the head of their best team...

* * *

><p>Instead of going home to get some rest, which was what his body was practically screaming for, Tony found himself sitting in his car and staring at the house that looked so much like the house his wife wanted them to buy. Part of him was all for it, but on the other hand he knew far too well how most nice looking things were just an illusion. Hiding behind the nice walls was the cruel reality of this world. It was all thanks to his long career in law enforcement that he had a hard time finding comfort with the idea of living in a house like that... Then again, he also didn't want to live in a mansion. There had to be a perfect middle road...<p>

Glancing at the time again, he wondered once more if he would dare to go in there at 1 AM. Any normal people were asleep... He really should go home and get some sleep himself and come back tomorrow...

As long as he had studied and worked on the case of Hernandez, it was just as long that he had studied most of the victims which the man had left behind. And the man living in that house was one of them who had left the biggest impact on him. The man was a widower and a retired Marine sniper. Leroy Jethro Gibbs. He'd chuckled at the name for a bit, until he read how Hernandez had stolen his wife and daughter from him. They were murdered while the man himself had been away.

He didn't even want to imagine how he would feel if that would ever happen to his family... To lose his wife and children in such a brutal way... God, he prayed he never had to go through that kind of pain... And he hoped his wife would finally understand why he wanted them to move to a much more secure place than a normal neighborhood as this one was... If it looked too safe and nice to be true, then that's what it usually was. Untrue. Illusion of perfection.

The knocking against his car window snapped him out of his thoughts. Irritated looking older man stood there, staring at him. While he looked much older now than in the picture which Tony had seen many times, the sharp blue eyes hadn't changed. He knew he was looking at Jethro Gibbs.

Tony rolled down the window. "Yes?"

"What you mean '_yes_'? You keep sitting here and I'll call the cops _if_ you're lucky! You end up unlucky, I'll just shoot you!"

Tony laughed softly. The man didn't respond to his amusement. "I'm sorry... I am a cop. Well, Navy cop. NCIS."

"NCIS..?"

"Used to be N-"

"I know what it is!" Gibbs snapped. The pure hatred towards the NCIS, or NIS as it used to be, was so obvious Tony would have to be blind to not see it... And deaf. Oh boy, he so looked forward to this now... Not that he would blame the old man for wanting to shoot him...

"Look... I can leave if this is too much for you... I just had some news I thought you'd want to know as soon as possible, but I can just call you or send you a letter or something..."

Gibbs stared at him for a while and then he walked away. When Tony just kept staring after him, he stopped and turned around at his door. "You coming or not!?"

"Sure, I can read your mind..." Tony muttered to himself. Leaving his car, he jogged after the older man. Secretly wondering if he should call his wife and kids first. Who knew if the man was going to kill him for working for the people he seemed to hate so much...

When he stepped inside the house, he was hit by a wall of something. The smell was so strong and for a while he wasn't sure if the source of it was even legal. "What _is_ that..?"

"Coffee..." Gibbs muttered and pointing at the couch in the living room, he waited until Tony was sitting down. Then he gave the younger man a cup of what he called coffee.

Eyeing the coffee suspiciously, Tony started suspecting the man was actually trying to poison him. Just the stench of that black liquid was too much for him... Or maybe it was black goo..? It was hard to tell... He decided to hold the cup in his hands and as soon as the man would look away, he'd get rid of it... No way was he going to drink that...

"So... Pedro Hernandez..."

Gibbs's entire posture changed and something flashed in his eyes. Then he looked defeated and there was a pained look, which gave Tony this strange feeling that he wasn't supposed to see it, so he looked at his cup of... 'coffee'.

"We got him. I'm sorry it comes so late. Too many years..."

The older man's hands tightened around his own cup of coffee and he finally sat down. "How long..?"

"I think ever since he-"

"No... I mean how long_ you've_ been working on it?"

Tony blinked. "Well, since it was a cold case... Couple of years, I think."

When Gibbs looked at him, he looked away. "Two years, four months and thirteen days..."

"For a cold case... That means you worked on that, while working on any other cases you had at the same time, right?"

"Yes..."

"Did you..? Is he..?"

"Dead. Fifteen bullets and our Medical Examiner made sure of it..."

The clock ticking on the wall and the long silence was making his ass itch terribly, but Tony bit his tongue and prayed silently for a sign that he could leave without seeming rude.

Finally Gibbs spoke again. "Agent..."

"DiNozzo. Anthony DiNozzo."

"Thank you."

Without knowing how, but somehow he knew that was the sign he'd been waiting for. '_Dismissed_'. He could almost hear the man saying that to him, even if he hadn't spoken it out loud.

Standing up, Tony left the cup of coffee on the coffee table and with a short goodbye he left, deciding that he hadn't seen the first tear rolling down the man's face or heard the quiet sound he made as he was trying to hold back his strong emotions. And Tony knew better than try to say anything. There would be no words to ease that kind of pain. Even time couldn't do that. It would only make it easier to go through the day, but the pain would never be gone.

He hated cases like these, but at least he'd made sure justice was given to the victims, even if it was many years too late...

_ **The End.** _


End file.
